The worst part of taking Clomid wasn't that it made me nuts. It was that underneath it all, there was a rational part of my mind monitoring every crazy moment and cataloguing it, then triggering a tiny little voice which just said, "You're being psycho....you're being psycho...."over and over again. And being unable to control my reactions or emotions, regardless of what my rational voice said.
It was a truly horrible feeling. Like the rational part of you is locked up in a tiny little cage, surrounded by your hormones, which are surrounding it and jeering and poking it with pointy sticks.
Which is why this cycle has been such a pleasant surprise so far. I finally feel like I am off the crazy train. After three months of manic-depressive weepiness, this is like being on vacation. Of course, the Clomid was covered by insurance. Of course, the fact that I have finally returned to normal is making me wonder if the drugs are working. However, I am feeling distinct twinges from good ol' Lefty, and it may not be time to send Righty to the glue factory yet...there's a distant pinging that bodes well.
Let's see:
Clomid: Pros- free, and you can just take a pill. Cons: hot flashes, random weeping, and screaming one-sided arguments about the way my husband folds underwear.
vs.
Gonal-F: Cons: $1000 a month and lack of psychotic side effects makes me wonder if it's working. Potential for track marks on my tummy. Pros: getting to keep my sanity.
Tough call.
I went out with the girls last night, and we had a blast and didn't discuss the current fertility situation with me. I even got hit on a couple of times. I totally needed that! Going through all this medical treatment sort of makes me feel like a lab experiment. Like I am ovulation robot or an under performing baby factory. I have been feeling puffy and unattractive, so the ego boost was a nice bonus.
It was actually kind of a nice reminder that I can leave the house and focus on other things besides my current cycle. I actually lived dangerously and had a couple of drinks!
I haven't felt this good in a long time. Hopefully,I can ditch Moaning Myrtle by the wayside, at least for a couple of weeks.
By the way readers, thanks for all your well-wishes, commiserations, and advice. I am so new to this, and so clueless in a lot of ways (although, I am learning fast!) and I greatly appreciate all of your input.
Thursday, August 16, 2007
Monday, August 13, 2007
Borderline (Come on! Sing Along!)
Feels like I'm goooooing to loooose my miiiiind!
Before I go into all that, welcome to all of the Stirrup Queens (and SPJ's) who found me via the Lost and Found Page. It's great to start a new blog and see actual traffic, and I am pleased to have finally bitten the bullet and joined the online infertility community and been made to feel so welcome so quickly. You guys rock.
I met with Mom for lunch today, and she seems to have assimilated the conversation of last night. I do count myself as being incredibly lucky- she and Dad are offering to subsidize my drug costs. Never underestimate the determination of Armenians who want to be grandparents.
Well, plus they probably don't want another Christmas Day when my aunt in Chicago calls to announce that my cousin is going to make her a grandmother for the fourth time, isn't it amazing! I'm a fourth time grandma! And your Dad doesn't have any grandkinds yet, and he just turned 59! You guys better get crackin'! I ended up choking back tears over the post-dinner Scrabble fiasco.
In my defense, it was exacerbated by the fact that my freshly married brother bought his new bride an SUV with third row seating, and I added one and one and made three, and then panic set in. I'm not the only one whose done this. Right? Right?
It turned out that no, they're not pregnant, they're just yuppies. (Actually, they want the room for their Jack Russell Terriers. Go know.)
So. Ultrasound. Otherwise known Chez Jenna as "My date with the all-seeing dildo."
Yes, I am that classy.
Evidently, my ovaries are happy little sacks of sunshine and rainbows. No cysts. They found Righty with a minimum of problems, so perhaps he has made up his mind to actually do some work this cycle, as opposed to resting on his laurels. Whatever the ovarian equivalent of laurels might be. Lefty (AKA Ol' Faithful) was as usual present and accounted for. When I finish this whole thing, I think I want to send him movie tickets and a gift certificate to Chili's.
As for my uterine disco lounge, it is open for business.
The ultrasound lady also told me the inspirational story of a woman with the same stats as me- three cycles with Clomid, luteal phase defect, got pregnant on her first cycle of Gonal-F.
So, everything was par for the course. I put my clothes on, went into room 5 (which whould have my name on the door, I feel like I live in there.)
I am going to be doing 225 IU for the first 5 days, 150 IU for two days after that, then bloodwork and ultrasound, then another IUI, followed by progesterone suppositories from hell.
(I had to call Freedom Pharmacy to order another 300 IU pen to make up my full dosage.) They showed me how to prime the Gonal-F pens, and the ghetto method of siphoning out the extra meds with a spare syringe. I was feeling pretty good, until I started to ask questions.
I waited until I had mastered the Gonal-F pen, and then made a squinchy face and said,
"So, what do we know, exactly? My husband and I are both basically fine, right?"
"Right."
"Except for the luteal phase thing."
"Right."
"Ok, so there's no way of testing if my eggs can actually be fertilized until an IVF procedure, right? Are we just going by the fact that I am under 35, as far as egg quality goes?
"Well, your FSH is borderline, so...."
Hold the phone. Because nobody has ever mentioned that any of my levels were anything but stellar, so this came as kind of a shock to me.
"What exactly do we mean by borderline?"
"We ideally want something under 8. You're just above, at 8.4. It's not a big deal. We just usually pursue more aggressive treatment if the FSH is up above the 9 range."
So, have they been wasting my time with the whole Clomid thing? Because that's how I feel. I am PISSED. Super pissed. Because if I had known all of this, I would have started injectables three freaking months ago.
I think I am going to look into my other options. I am not necessarily attached to Dr. Combover, and while I like his office staff, if we are going to be shelling out thousands of dollars out-of-pocket, we better get results.
According to my OB-Gyn (whom I love) this clinic is the best game in town. However, going out of town is an option. Luckily, we're three hours away from both L.A. and San Francisco, so if it gets to the point of IVF, I have a feeling we are going to go with another clinic...and realistically, I am going to have to get my name in there pretty soon if I want to stick to our timetable. I need to look at success percentages and see how the clincs statewide measure up.
Ok. Off to go prime my pen!
Edited to add: Ok, what was I worried about? After Ovidrel, this stuff is cake!
Before I go into all that, welcome to all of the Stirrup Queens (and SPJ's) who found me via the Lost and Found Page. It's great to start a new blog and see actual traffic, and I am pleased to have finally bitten the bullet and joined the online infertility community and been made to feel so welcome so quickly. You guys rock.
I met with Mom for lunch today, and she seems to have assimilated the conversation of last night. I do count myself as being incredibly lucky- she and Dad are offering to subsidize my drug costs. Never underestimate the determination of Armenians who want to be grandparents.
Well, plus they probably don't want another Christmas Day when my aunt in Chicago calls to announce that my cousin is going to make her a grandmother for the fourth time, isn't it amazing! I'm a fourth time grandma! And your Dad doesn't have any grandkinds yet, and he just turned 59! You guys better get crackin'! I ended up choking back tears over the post-dinner Scrabble fiasco.
In my defense, it was exacerbated by the fact that my freshly married brother bought his new bride an SUV with third row seating, and I added one and one and made three, and then panic set in. I'm not the only one whose done this. Right? Right?
It turned out that no, they're not pregnant, they're just yuppies. (Actually, they want the room for their Jack Russell Terriers. Go know.)
So. Ultrasound. Otherwise known Chez Jenna as "My date with the all-seeing dildo."
Yes, I am that classy.
Evidently, my ovaries are happy little sacks of sunshine and rainbows. No cysts. They found Righty with a minimum of problems, so perhaps he has made up his mind to actually do some work this cycle, as opposed to resting on his laurels. Whatever the ovarian equivalent of laurels might be. Lefty (AKA Ol' Faithful) was as usual present and accounted for. When I finish this whole thing, I think I want to send him movie tickets and a gift certificate to Chili's.
As for my uterine disco lounge, it is open for business.
The ultrasound lady also told me the inspirational story of a woman with the same stats as me- three cycles with Clomid, luteal phase defect, got pregnant on her first cycle of Gonal-F.
So, everything was par for the course. I put my clothes on, went into room 5 (which whould have my name on the door, I feel like I live in there.)
I am going to be doing 225 IU for the first 5 days, 150 IU for two days after that, then bloodwork and ultrasound, then another IUI, followed by progesterone suppositories from hell.
(I had to call Freedom Pharmacy to order another 300 IU pen to make up my full dosage.) They showed me how to prime the Gonal-F pens, and the ghetto method of siphoning out the extra meds with a spare syringe. I was feeling pretty good, until I started to ask questions.
I waited until I had mastered the Gonal-F pen, and then made a squinchy face and said,
"So, what do we know, exactly? My husband and I are both basically fine, right?"
"Right."
"Except for the luteal phase thing."
"Right."
"Ok, so there's no way of testing if my eggs can actually be fertilized until an IVF procedure, right? Are we just going by the fact that I am under 35, as far as egg quality goes?
"Well, your FSH is borderline, so...."
Hold the phone. Because nobody has ever mentioned that any of my levels were anything but stellar, so this came as kind of a shock to me.
"What exactly do we mean by borderline?"
"We ideally want something under 8. You're just above, at 8.4. It's not a big deal. We just usually pursue more aggressive treatment if the FSH is up above the 9 range."
So, have they been wasting my time with the whole Clomid thing? Because that's how I feel. I am PISSED. Super pissed. Because if I had known all of this, I would have started injectables three freaking months ago.
I think I am going to look into my other options. I am not necessarily attached to Dr. Combover, and while I like his office staff, if we are going to be shelling out thousands of dollars out-of-pocket, we better get results.
According to my OB-Gyn (whom I love) this clinic is the best game in town. However, going out of town is an option. Luckily, we're three hours away from both L.A. and San Francisco, so if it gets to the point of IVF, I have a feeling we are going to go with another clinic...and realistically, I am going to have to get my name in there pretty soon if I want to stick to our timetable. I need to look at success percentages and see how the clincs statewide measure up.
Ok. Off to go prime my pen!
Edited to add: Ok, what was I worried about? After Ovidrel, this stuff is cake!
Sunday, August 12, 2007
Fragile
Three couples of our acquaintance are expecting right now.
They're all at the 4-5 months mark. Two of them openly admit that it was an accident. The third is a first child, and the couple is substantially younger than my husband (who is younger than me.) Normally I wouldn't enumerate that among things that bother me, but it transpires that everyone else knew about the pregnancies(including my husband) but were afraid to tell me.
God, I hate that. I would much rather know ahead of time so I can steel myself for the belly band and the aversion of alcohol and raw fish. It's really better than if I hop out of the car and am confronted with suddenly-six-months-pregnant lady.
One of the accidental pregnant couples has a ten year old and a five year old, and got pregnant while on the pill. The other couple has a two year old who was supposed to be an only child, but they evidently had a latex malfunction.
Sometimes, it's just really hard to have a sense of humor.
I had this conversation with my mom today:
"So how is this different than the Clomid?"
"Clomid is 8%. With the IUI, it's around 12%."
"Those aren't such good odds. How is this new medicine better?"
"The percentages increase to around 20-25%."
"That doesn't sound so hot."
"Those are pretty much the odds for people with regular fertility, actually." (Defensive tone? Yeah, that's me.)
"And they still don't know what the problem is?"
"No Mom. Except for the luteal phase thing. They can't figure it out. His counts are great, and my body is doing everything it's supposed to do, as far as we can tell."
"Why don't you just move on to the thing with the petri dish?"
"IVF is really expensive, and insurance doesn't cover any of it. We don't want to go there until we have to."
"So how long are you going to do this new thing? How expensive is IVF? Can they do more tests? Do you want me to go with you to your appointment tomorrow?"
It went like that....on, and on, and on. I know it's because she cares. But for some reason, all the informed decisions we made regarding treatment now seem completely ridiculous, and I am wallowing in massive swamps of self-doubt.
They're all at the 4-5 months mark. Two of them openly admit that it was an accident. The third is a first child, and the couple is substantially younger than my husband (who is younger than me.) Normally I wouldn't enumerate that among things that bother me, but it transpires that everyone else knew about the pregnancies(including my husband) but were afraid to tell me.
God, I hate that. I would much rather know ahead of time so I can steel myself for the belly band and the aversion of alcohol and raw fish. It's really better than if I hop out of the car and am confronted with suddenly-six-months-pregnant lady.
One of the accidental pregnant couples has a ten year old and a five year old, and got pregnant while on the pill. The other couple has a two year old who was supposed to be an only child, but they evidently had a latex malfunction.
Sometimes, it's just really hard to have a sense of humor.
I had this conversation with my mom today:
"So how is this different than the Clomid?"
"Clomid is 8%. With the IUI, it's around 12%."
"Those aren't such good odds. How is this new medicine better?"
"The percentages increase to around 20-25%."
"That doesn't sound so hot."
"Those are pretty much the odds for people with regular fertility, actually." (Defensive tone? Yeah, that's me.)
"And they still don't know what the problem is?"
"No Mom. Except for the luteal phase thing. They can't figure it out. His counts are great, and my body is doing everything it's supposed to do, as far as we can tell."
"Why don't you just move on to the thing with the petri dish?"
"IVF is really expensive, and insurance doesn't cover any of it. We don't want to go there until we have to."
"So how long are you going to do this new thing? How expensive is IVF? Can they do more tests? Do you want me to go with you to your appointment tomorrow?"
It went like that....on, and on, and on. I know it's because she cares. But for some reason, all the informed decisions we made regarding treatment now seem completely ridiculous, and I am wallowing in massive swamps of self-doubt.
Saturday, August 11, 2007
All Hail the Mylar Envelope
Aaaaaaand, my drugs have arrived!
I exhaustively read the enclosed information, and I am feeling a lot more confident about the shots, mainly because I can just inject myself in the stomach, like with the Ovidrel. Hallelujah!
Not to mention, I have been researching online, and it looks like I may no longer be insane, now that I have bid farewell to Clomid. The most common cited issues were "heavy feeling in ovaries" and ....wait for it..."tiredness". Uh oh. Maybe that will react with the tiredness from the progesterone and make me super-energetic?
Why are you laughing? It could happen.
So I may be comatose, but at least I won't be sobbing uncontrollably at pictues of baby penguins or dog food commercials.
I exhaustively read the enclosed information, and I am feeling a lot more confident about the shots, mainly because I can just inject myself in the stomach, like with the Ovidrel. Hallelujah!
Not to mention, I have been researching online, and it looks like I may no longer be insane, now that I have bid farewell to Clomid. The most common cited issues were "heavy feeling in ovaries" and ....wait for it..."tiredness". Uh oh. Maybe that will react with the tiredness from the progesterone and make me super-energetic?
Why are you laughing? It could happen.
So I may be comatose, but at least I won't be sobbing uncontrollably at pictues of baby penguins or dog food commercials.
Friday, August 10, 2007
Freedom!
Well, it's Freedom Fertility Pharmacy for the win!
My Gonal-F (GonalF? Gonal F? Gonal Eff? Whatever) will be arriving tomorrow along with my Ovidrel shot...presumably chilling in its usual mylar envelope.
In the meantime, I called the FC about it being Day One and all. Because they wanted a "day three" ultrasound. A nurse was supposed to call me back. I waited until 1PM, then stupidly called back and got shunted into Dr.'s Office Phone Exchange Limbo, where they told me to call back at two.
Called back at two. "We'll have a nurse call you!"
OK. You want a day three ultra sound. Today is Day One. It's now 2PM. You're open until 4PM. I am doing the math, and something does not compute. Maybe I am stupid, but by Day Three ultrasound, I was under the impression that it was supposed to be done on day 1, 2, or 3?
After some more thinking, I realized that I would need to get my meds ordered ASAP, and due to the weekend, if they didn't get ordered by 5, we would probably have to skip the cycle.
I started semi-panicking. I finally called back at 3:50 PM and got...the exchange.
$@#&!!!!
I actually used the exchange to leave a message this time. The RN called me back a little after 4, set up an appointment for Monday, said she'd call Freedom Pharmacy, and to her credit, I had my order placed and ready to ship out for Saturday delivery by 5PM.
Thank Heaven for small favors.
And for the record, Freedom Pharmacy is awesome.
Now I am just sort of dreading my nightly shots. The Man informs me that he is comfortable with giving them to me, since military training evidently covers giving shots. Also, my practical side says that he would probably appreciate being a little more involved in what's going on with us than his usual 7:30 AM scramble to make "the deposit" into a vial.
The irrational side of me is somewhat preoccupied with my lily white skin, and that scene in Pulp Fiction where John Travolta is administering the shot of adrenaline after Uma overdoses.
I've slated this week for getting caught up on laundry and pulling the house out of chaos, in preparation for my inevitable decline once the progesterone coma falls back upon me. I am at least enjoying being able to work outside and lift heavy objects without the niggling fear in the back of my mind that I may be screwing things up.
My Gonal-F (GonalF? Gonal F? Gonal Eff? Whatever) will be arriving tomorrow along with my Ovidrel shot...presumably chilling in its usual mylar envelope.
In the meantime, I called the FC about it being Day One and all. Because they wanted a "day three" ultrasound. A nurse was supposed to call me back. I waited until 1PM, then stupidly called back and got shunted into Dr.'s Office Phone Exchange Limbo, where they told me to call back at two.
Called back at two. "We'll have a nurse call you!"
OK. You want a day three ultra sound. Today is Day One. It's now 2PM. You're open until 4PM. I am doing the math, and something does not compute. Maybe I am stupid, but by Day Three ultrasound, I was under the impression that it was supposed to be done on day 1, 2, or 3?
After some more thinking, I realized that I would need to get my meds ordered ASAP, and due to the weekend, if they didn't get ordered by 5, we would probably have to skip the cycle.
I started semi-panicking. I finally called back at 3:50 PM and got...the exchange.
$@#&!!!!
I actually used the exchange to leave a message this time. The RN called me back a little after 4, set up an appointment for Monday, said she'd call Freedom Pharmacy, and to her credit, I had my order placed and ready to ship out for Saturday delivery by 5PM.
Thank Heaven for small favors.
And for the record, Freedom Pharmacy is awesome.
Now I am just sort of dreading my nightly shots. The Man informs me that he is comfortable with giving them to me, since military training evidently covers giving shots. Also, my practical side says that he would probably appreciate being a little more involved in what's going on with us than his usual 7:30 AM scramble to make "the deposit" into a vial.
The irrational side of me is somewhat preoccupied with my lily white skin, and that scene in Pulp Fiction where John Travolta is administering the shot of adrenaline after Uma overdoses.
I've slated this week for getting caught up on laundry and pulling the house out of chaos, in preparation for my inevitable decline once the progesterone coma falls back upon me. I am at least enjoying being able to work outside and lift heavy objects without the niggling fear in the back of my mind that I may be screwing things up.
Thursday, August 9, 2007
Well...
We're officially entering the world of injectables. Part of me is a little upset that I am not more upset about not getting pregnant this month. Is that weird?
The test yesterday morning seemed ridiculously anti-climactic. I called the clinic to report my negative.
They told me to discontinue my progesterone (Yes! Yes!) and call back on Day One.
So I went out and had sushi and an alcoholic beverage. Because hey, that is my silver lining. Well, that and not having to load up the progesterone suppositories every night.
I questioned the RN over the phone re: dollar amounts, because of course, our insurance doesn't cover injectables.
Evidently we have two choices- one online pharmacy offers a discount price each month, and the other has a "buy two months, get one free" plan.
I forced myself not to say, "So...one plan for the optimist, one for the pessimist!" because these people already think I am a little nuts.
Possibly because last time, when they were explaining about my endometrial lining, I interrupted them to say, "So basically, it's like a happy little waterbed in there."
You know, as opposed to the Gobi Desert. Or the Louvre.
And now I am picturing my interior regions furnished with a round red velvet bed, a white sheepskin rug, a leopard chaise longue, and a disco ball. And also a really large stereo system. Because hey, my uterus likes to party like it's 1979.
Oh, and when they gave me my last ultrasound, and found that my left ovary had three follicles and the right NONE for the second month in a row, the ultrasound tech may have heard me accuse my right ovary of "not earning its keep". I also may have threatened to have it evicted, although I did not verbalize the "It's my body, and I make the rules" lecture that was brewing inside my head.
Oh God, they must think I'm insane.
So now I am agonizing over which plan to choose. The Man just wanted dollar amounts, and he was obviously not helping, so I called my best friend for her take on things.
"Well, here's what I think. If you go with the 'buy two months get one free' plan...."
"Yes?" I prompted.
"Well, you would probably get pregnant on the first cycle. I think you should go with that one."
Yes, this is why she is my friend. She just gets me.
Ok, I am now officially up and around. I have a huge to-do list, and since I seem to have finally trancended my progesterone coma, I have to get to the gym and work off the results of a month of obsessive ice cream and chocolate consumption.
The test yesterday morning seemed ridiculously anti-climactic. I called the clinic to report my negative.
They told me to discontinue my progesterone (Yes! Yes!) and call back on Day One.
So I went out and had sushi and an alcoholic beverage. Because hey, that is my silver lining. Well, that and not having to load up the progesterone suppositories every night.
I questioned the RN over the phone re: dollar amounts, because of course, our insurance doesn't cover injectables.
Evidently we have two choices- one online pharmacy offers a discount price each month, and the other has a "buy two months, get one free" plan.
I forced myself not to say, "So...one plan for the optimist, one for the pessimist!" because these people already think I am a little nuts.
Possibly because last time, when they were explaining about my endometrial lining, I interrupted them to say, "So basically, it's like a happy little waterbed in there."
You know, as opposed to the Gobi Desert. Or the Louvre.
And now I am picturing my interior regions furnished with a round red velvet bed, a white sheepskin rug, a leopard chaise longue, and a disco ball. And also a really large stereo system. Because hey, my uterus likes to party like it's 1979.
Oh, and when they gave me my last ultrasound, and found that my left ovary had three follicles and the right NONE for the second month in a row, the ultrasound tech may have heard me accuse my right ovary of "not earning its keep". I also may have threatened to have it evicted, although I did not verbalize the "It's my body, and I make the rules" lecture that was brewing inside my head.
Oh God, they must think I'm insane.
So now I am agonizing over which plan to choose. The Man just wanted dollar amounts, and he was obviously not helping, so I called my best friend for her take on things.
"Well, here's what I think. If you go with the 'buy two months get one free' plan...."
"Yes?" I prompted.
"Well, you would probably get pregnant on the first cycle. I think you should go with that one."
Yes, this is why she is my friend. She just gets me.
Ok, I am now officially up and around. I have a huge to-do list, and since I seem to have finally trancended my progesterone coma, I have to get to the gym and work off the results of a month of obsessive ice cream and chocolate consumption.
Wednesday, August 8, 2007
Keep on keepin' on
Tomorrow (well, technically today) is pregnancy test day.
I know I haven't been around..things have been better this cycle with regards to my emtional stability, but that may be because I seem to be asleep 90% of the time.
Seriously. It's like I have progesterone-induced narcolepsy. I will sit down to watch TV and read a book, and that's all she wrote. The Man keeps discovering me curled up in what he calls my "nests" throughout the house.
So if you have been wondering, that's where I have been. Sleeping. And eating ice cream.
I wish I could say I have high hopes for this cycle, but last month's emotional smackdown is evidently still in effect. I haven't even googled "early pregnancy symptoms" yet.
Plus, I don't "feel pregnant", not that I know what pregnant feels like.
I just have that feeling that my period is going to start, and I am dreading it, mainly because last month's was absolutely horrific, to the point that I was hyper-ventilating in the bathroom, because I seriously thought I was having a miscarriage.
I asked the RN at the RE's office about it, and she basically said it was thanks to my three follicles. Maybe I should be happy that my left ovary does all the work every cycle, and my right ovary is just phoning it in?
Huh. Alright...test tomorrow! Here's hoping that I flunk with flying colors (preferably double pink lines.)
I know I haven't been around..things have been better this cycle with regards to my emtional stability, but that may be because I seem to be asleep 90% of the time.
Seriously. It's like I have progesterone-induced narcolepsy. I will sit down to watch TV and read a book, and that's all she wrote. The Man keeps discovering me curled up in what he calls my "nests" throughout the house.
So if you have been wondering, that's where I have been. Sleeping. And eating ice cream.
I wish I could say I have high hopes for this cycle, but last month's emotional smackdown is evidently still in effect. I haven't even googled "early pregnancy symptoms" yet.
Plus, I don't "feel pregnant", not that I know what pregnant feels like.
I just have that feeling that my period is going to start, and I am dreading it, mainly because last month's was absolutely horrific, to the point that I was hyper-ventilating in the bathroom, because I seriously thought I was having a miscarriage.
I asked the RN at the RE's office about it, and she basically said it was thanks to my three follicles. Maybe I should be happy that my left ovary does all the work every cycle, and my right ovary is just phoning it in?
Huh. Alright...test tomorrow! Here's hoping that I flunk with flying colors (preferably double pink lines.)
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